


They say that things just cannot grow beneath the winter snow, or so I have been told.

by shin_ka



Category: Given (Anime), Given (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shin_ka/pseuds/shin_ka
Summary: The other boy stares at him for a long time and throws a glance at Satou, before coming closer and leaning into Uenoyama’s space until their faces are a few centimeters apart, and says, “I didn’t know Mafuyu would bring someone with him, but it is nice to meet you, I’m Yuuki Yoshida.”
Relationships: Satou Mafuyu/Uenoyama Ritsuka/Yoshida Yuuki
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	They say that things just cannot grow beneath the winter snow, or so I have been told.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rimenorreason](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rimenorreason/gifts).



> In this fic, Yuuki didn't die, but got very drunk. The fight still took place, and they're both dealing with the aftermaths of it. This is from Uenoyama's pov.  
> Thank you to my friend Unaflor for beta-reading the fic for me, you're amazing :)  
> The title is part of the lyrics of "Winter song" by Sara Bareilles.

When he meets Mafuyu, Uenoyama only perceives a bothering presence on the way of his napping spot, a disturbance of the placid routine he has created and protected for months. And, as the days go by, he discovers that besides introducing himself on that first day, he doesn’t usually talk, except to greet him or wish him a good day, so he learns to be ok with it. As ok as he can be while he tries not to get too distracted by the way the sun reflects on his hair, turning it almost copper, or the manner in which some of the locks fall over his forehead and frame his eyes.

The first time Mafuyu actually says more than one sentence together is when Uenoyama brings his guitar to school, so he can go directly from there to the rental studio and practice the new song that Kaji-san has been working on. Satou’s eyes fixate on the instrument hanging from his shoulders and it isn’t after he has seated himself on the stairs and has started to unwrap the onigiri he got from his part time job, that Ritsuka hears him speak. 

“I didn’t know that you played, Uenoyama-kun.” The way he says it, it almost sounds like an accusation. Half reproach and something else that Ritsuka can’t quite grasp, but that almost makes him try to chase it away.

“I started when I was little. Do you like music?” He doesn’t know why he asks him, except that, for him, music almost feels like breathing. The question, he thinks, is like commenting on what nourished you after you’ve been starving. Akihiko’s song is one of the first things that have excited him in a while, had put at the front of his mind the memories of numb fingers and popped blisters, the thrill in the silence before the sound started. Late nights watching old DVD concerts, imitating the way the musicians stood on stage, grasping with his hands the guitar’s handle and learning to coordinate which strings to hold and which to let go.

He asks “Do you like music?” and Mafuyu smiles at him for the first time, it’s almost wistful, and serves as a way to evade the question, because it makes Uenoyama look away first. 

The bell rings announcing the end of their lunch break, and they walk towards their respective classrooms in silence. Before Mafuyu enters his, he turns to Uenoyama and speaks so low it is closer to a whisper, a secret he is almost regretful to let go into existence, “Sometimes.”

Uenoyama watches him go, and thinks that “sometimes” is better than “not at all”.

From that day on, he creates a playlist of songs he believes Mafuyu might like, and they go through them together during lunch. Their shoulders touching while they share his earphones and Satou looking at him as if he can’t believe that Uenoyama would take his “sometimes” as a first step, a touching stone.

The truth is, he would normally let it go and not make it his business, but he has caught Mafuyu humming when the other boy believes Ritsuka is asleep; or pressing his fingers against the CD’s plastic case, tracing the song’s titles and whispering them into the air. It doesn’t seem to him that Mafuyu only cares about it from time to time, and a part of him is obstinate enough to not want to accept that as the answer.

And it is a revelation, how sharing music with him and witnessing the way his body betrays his excitement: eyes closed and his head tilting as if that could help him catch the sound better and let it sink in, almost brings back some of Ritsuka’s enthusiasm. It almost spurs him into trying new arrangements and pick up his unfinished sheets of music under his bedside table. Tug at the strings until he is satisfied by the sound he has made his own.

Almost.

It isn’t until one month has passed and they’re waiting for the traffic lights to change, that he says, “I’m on a band, you could come to practice and watch us someday, if you want. I’m sure the other members won’t mind.”

The honest truth is: he wants to see Mafuyu’s face come alive when he hears a new melody, wants to take pride on being the one who inspired it. He looks at the other boy holding onto his bag like a shield, and doesn’t know why until he hears his reply.

“I’d like to, I just… don’t think I’m ready for that, yet.”

“Why would you have to be ready for it?” He doesn’t notice that his voice was louder than normal until other passersby throw side glances at him. So he blushes and mutters an apology, “I’m sorry, I just don’t understand.”

And at this Mafuyu looks at the floor, one of his hands playing with the bag's zipper, up and down, up and down, before finally saying, “Some things are harder than others, see you tomorrow, Uenoyama-kun.”

He watches him cross the street and reach the other side safely, before turning away and continuing his way home. It shouldn’t be a concern of his, the way Mafuyu puts a barrier in between them, the feeling of closeness you can reach but eludes you at the last second, but it is. And he doesn’t comprehend why.

The next day Uenoyama arrives first at their spot, he doesn’t realize how much he had been afraid of Mafuyu not coming or starting to avoid him until he sees him opening the door and coming in. His steps are slow and the greeting barely audible, but he sits beside him, their shoulders touching and their tights brushing each other, which leads him to believe that he didn’t fuck up, or not that badly, at least. Still, he makes sure Satou is looking at him for more than a few seconds before he asks, “Was it something I did?”

“No, it is the way you sound when you talk about it, I can tell it feels right for you. It’s almost like you belong to it, like nothing and no one else exists.” He breathes in and out through his mouth after he finishes, as if saying it had taken effort to do so. And it must have, because his voice trembled, but he maintained eye contact while giving away a piece of the puzzle Ritsuka is trying to give form. 

“Do you…hate music?”

“No,” he replies, and looks away from Uenoyama before he continues, “I distanced myself from someone I cared very much because of it. It also made me say something terrible to him; or I said it because I was jealous of it.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He knows as he says it that they’re empty words, not something appropriate enough to encompass all that he’s heard, all that is left uncovered, but feels bigger all the same.

Mafuyu leans into him until his head is resting on Ritsuka’s shoulder and sighs. “Yes, so am I.”

Uenoyama replays the conversation over and over when he goes to bed. He isn’t good with people and, most of the time, Mafuyu isn’t good at communicating clearly what he wants or feels. Sometimes, Ritsuka ponders, he suspects that Satou chooses not to, maybe as a defense mechanism, as if being misunderstood is better than not being known at all. He thinks that that might’ve been what happened between him and that other person and, while a part of him tells himself that it isn’t his business, he can’t help but think that he needs to do something about the way Mafuyu’s voice turned even lower when he said it, as if by making Ritsuka not able to hear it, it wouldn’t have been true.

The next day, Uenoyama almost runs to the stairs, still half afraid that Mafuyu isn’t going to be there. But he is, and so he decides to voice the conclusion he reached underneath the covers, his brain going in circles until he fell asleep, “I don’t know the particulars, but you could reach out to him, right? If it was a misunderstanding or an argument, you can talk to him and say that you’re sorry. There was one time that Yayoi got really mad at me, and I didn’t get why until she screamed to our dad that I recorded a concert over her Sailor Moon episodes. She could have just told me about it and I would have apologized to her sooner, you know.” 

And he doesn’t understand why he is rambling, or why he feels the need to stop, to bring Mafuyu closer and press their foreheads together until all he can do is look at Ritsuka’s eyes instead. He wants to say to him that he needs to be told when he is crossing a line, because he isn’t telepathic, and is an early beginner on Mafuyu’s body language. He wants to say “We both have a hard time saying what we mean, but if we work on it, we can get better, we can be better” but it is too early for that, too earnest, and he isn’t sure when he’ll be entirely ready to try it.

“Yuuki.” 

When he looks at him in question, Mafuyu continues, “His name is Yuuki. Thank you, Uenoyama-kun. I think… you’re right about that, there has passed enough time already”

Ritsuka picks up the lunch’s plastic package and throws it in the trash before forcing a smile. “Good luck, then.”

They don’t talk about him anymore, or at least they don’t until it’s been months of shared lunches, basketball plays, of Mafuyu slowly opening up more and more to him to the point in which Uenoyama almost feels as if he knows Yuuki Yoshida a little himself. 

One day, when they’re leaving the school, Satou tells him, “Yuuki invited me to hear a song he’s been working on. Could you come with me?”

It takes him by surprise, because the times that Mafuyu talks about him are like drizzle slowly piling up. It is little details, at first, like how they used to go to the park near his house, or that “Spirited away” used to be the movie they watched until they could repeat most of the dialogue. And later, it becomes a river overflowing, like how he was in love with him, how a part of him still is, how they’ve been talking and Mafuyu has made him promise to send him a message every night, to know he is ok.

By now, Uenoyama knows better than to ask “Why wouldn’t he?”, but it is always at the tip of his tongue. He puts his hands on his trousers’ pockets, and agrees to go with him. He supposes he doesn’t need to know every detail, but he wants to understand.

The first time he meets Yuuki, it feels like being a witness of an electric storm, ever expanding and erratic, something you can’t look away from, remaining too focused to try to predict where the next flash of lightning would appear in the sky.

The other boy stares at him for a long time and throws a glance at Satou, before coming closer and leaning into Uenoyama’s space until their faces are a few centimeters apart, and says, “I didn’t know Mafuyu would bring someone with him, but it is nice to meet you, I’m Yuuki Yoshida.”

“I’m Uenoyama Ritsuka, nice to meet you, as well,” he replies. And, before he tries to find the right words to say that won’t make the situation as awkward as it feels, something catches his eye. “That is a Gibson ES-330L!”

He doesn’t mean to say it so loud, but Yuuki chuckles and reaches for it to pass the guitar into Uenoyama’s hands. “I had to take a lot of part time jobs to be able to afford it, but it was worth it when I could buy it instead of just staring at it through the music shop’s window.”

Ritsuka is way too engrossed admiring the guitar’s neck, one of his thumbs tracing the brand’s name printed on the pegbox, to notice the way Mafuyu tenses a little before sitting near the amplifiers and teasing Yuuki, “I’m surprised that the employee didn’t call the police on you, you passed by that shop and stared through that window every day.”

“Not every day!”

“Hiiragi told me you always walked a few blocks more when going from your school to the train station to check if they hadn’t sold it.”

“Hiiragi talks too much!”

At this, Uenoyama races his eyes in time to see Mafuyu sticking his tongue out, which makes him smile a little before giving back the guitar and say, “Mafuyu told me you were working on a new song.”

“It’s actually his song, in part, he was humming it constantly until it stuck in my head and I couldn’t let go of it. It isn’t complete, but I think… the both of you might like it.” He connects the guitar to the amplifier and begins to play, how much practice has been into it shows by the way his fingers don’t alter, don’t hesitate for one second. It catches your attention and wants to make you keep listening, elevated in the feeling the sound provokes.

And yet, there are some retouches that he could make, Ritsuka almost suggests changing a section of the melody to make the transition between two parts flow better. He isn’t sure about how his advice will be received until Yoshida smiles at him and says, “Tell me what you’re thinking, you really can’t hide the way you feel, man, your face instantly gives you away.”

So he does, and they spent the rest of the session passing the guitar back and forth while talking of chord progressions until the next group starts to knock at the door to let them know their time is up.

Mafuyu laughs at the two of them and picks up his bag. They follow him to the exit, and Uenoyama feels happy, almost content. That is, until he sees them walking side by side on the way to the train station and catches Yuuki interlacing his fingers with Satou’s.

The next day Mafuyu comes to school wearing the scarf that he saw on Yuuki’s neck, and a part of Uenoyama wants to replace it with his own, another part wants to know how it smells, if the mixed scent of the both of them would linger on the fabric.

Yuuki gets his number from Mafuyu and sends him voice messages almost every day. At first they’re about the song’s arrangements, or about things he’d like to try with his band and questions about how Uenoyama is doing with Seasons. There are also random memes, and whining on both of their sides about their part time jobs. It shouldn’t be this easy, to talk to Yoshida. But it is, to the point in which he gets excited when he sees his phone notifications.

He also sends him things to watch with Mafuyu, videos of covers and memes of dogs that look too much like the one Satou owns. It is nice to laugh together sitting beside each other, the minutes passing away so quickly that the bell sound that signals the end of lunch break always surprises them.

Yuuki invites him to practice with him, and even though Uenoyama wants to, he is reluctant to. It is based on loyalty to his band, but also born out of the feeling he gets when he looks at the two of them together. Something he can’t give a name to, because it’d mean giving it form, giving it meaning.

He doesn’t relent until Mafuyu corners him on the stairs and tells him, “I think you should come, Uenoyama-kun, we both want you there.”

“I… I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think about it too much, or your brain might suffer, Uenoyama-kun.”

It takes him by surprise, how easily he falls into their routine. In the days neither of them have practice with their own bands, Yuuki waits for Mafuyu and him at the train station. And, on their way to the practice room, complains about his school day, asks them about theirs or comments on the last music video he sent them. 

It’s a sequence of actions made habit, the way in which Yoshida always steps closer when Uenoyama explains a technical aspect to him, a fond smile and a teasing glance before ruffling his hair, his hand resting on the back of Ritsuka’s neck before letting go and turning to Mafuyu, throwing a wink at him and receiving a pocker face in return.

He grows used to it, to Mafuyu grabbing both of their hands when they’re all resting on the floor of the studio, his fingers traveling down their knuckles, tracing the skin with fingertips that are starting to form callouses, the texture never failing to make Uenoyama’s heart beat faster. During this ritual made home, Yuuki usually closes his eyes and leans into Ritsuka, his hair tickling his neck, while he sighs into the air. It is a gesture that sends shivers down his spine, something that makes Mafuyu look knowingly at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

He doesn’t want to ask them what all of this means, because what they have is something he hasn’t felt in a while, the deep sense of satisfaction and enlightenment when he is playing next to Yuuki, or when Mafuyu decides to join their jamming with a humming melody that gives more form to their new song. He knows that he probably should, because Kaji-san laughs at him whenever he tries to talk about it with him, and Haruki-san just looks into the distance and asks to the practice room itself what he’s made to deserve a bandmate such as Uecchi. 

He should ask, but it is here, in this tiny room, that he falls for music all over again.

Known to him, music isn’t the only thing he falls for.

Unknown to him, he isn’t the only one.

**Author's Note:**

> This could be considered almost a mix of your prompts of "trio AU" and "introspective AU". I think that while Uenoyama, as you said, helped Mafuyu look into his relationship with Yuuki and the dynamic they had, Mafuyu and Yuuki could help him regain his love and enthusiasm for music.  
> I also thought that the break up and spending some time apart, plus meeting someone knew who brought a new pov, would help Yuuki and Mafuyu realize the ways in which their relationship needed to change if they wanted to remain together. I also wanted Mafuyu to acknowledge the feelings that made him say what he said to Yuuki, and face them so he could move on and reach out to him.  
> I hope you liked the fic, and that the characters were IC, this is my first time writing about them, so I'm crossing my fingers. Thank you so much for giving detailed prompts. I had fun writing about them :)  
> Thank you for reading my fic, I hope you enjoyed it! ^^


End file.
